“Oh,” Emily said, putting her arm through his. It looked like the guy was going to pass out. My gaze lingered on the place where their arms were linked, and I tightened my jaw so hard I bit my tongue. He hadn’t even asked her if she was okay. Didn’t even care to know what she’d experienced. “Here, there’s a curb over there,” Emily murmured.

I rubbed at my jaw, just beginning to notice that my throat felt sore from where the man had attempted to choke me out and almost succeeded. A shiver went down my spine as other scenarios—ones where he’d killed me and taken Emily—raced through my mind. “Were there other men or just the two who abducted you?” I asked Abram.

“They were the only ones that came to our community that I know of. Unless more have showed up since we’ve been gone.”

“You’ll want to get back to them. I’m sure they’re worried sick. And you’ll need to come up with a plan to protect your people.” At that thought, I turned, bending down so that I could see beneath the buggy where I’d watched the handgun slide. Yes! There it was, wedged between two sections of the undercarriage. I reached in gingerly and hooked it with my finger, sliding it toward me and then pulling it out. When I turned and stood straight, both Lavina and Abram stepped back, their gazes on the weapon. “Do you have any guns at all? Hunting rifles?”

“No. Guns are a form of violence and inconsistent with our beliefs.”

“Okay, then,” I said, glancing at his daughter staring at her feet, expression blank. Abram glanced at his daughter too, his troubled eyes returning to me. He obviously got my point but chose not to comment. “If not,” I said, “then it’s time to get creative.”

“What do you mean?”

I squinted off into the distance for a moment. “Off the top of my head? I’ve heard you can build a barn in a couple days.”

“One.”

“One what?”

“One day.”

“Badass. Okay. Think barriers, trenches, traps.” I looked over to Lavina, who seemed to be fading emotionally by the moment. “Get her home. Start building right away.”

Abram nodded, seeming bolstered by the plan. He extended his hand, and I clasped it. “You’re traveling, right? Take the other horse and buggy. We only need one to return in. I use the compartments to deliver goods for my business, but I don’t think that will be necessary for a while,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I trust that you’ll take care of our horse.” I looked over at the horses, both of which were nibbling the grass in front of them and drinking from the puddles of melted snow as they recovered from their run-of-terror.